


A Lighthouse in the Storm

by Katzenjammers



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: ADORABLE GAYS, Catharsis, Comfort, F/F, fledgling relationship, give Sylvanas cuddles 2k19, let them rest, look at our girls snuggling and being cute n shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 16:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20245954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katzenjammers/pseuds/Katzenjammers
Summary: "“Tides, Jaina- look at us!” Vereesa gestured to the miserable huddle of elves around her, “One sharp breeze and we practically keel over, we simply don’t do cold- why do you think we are so tactile as a race, we need this to survive.”Well. That explained a lot actually. The way Vereesa and her rangers always bunked together, how they constantly were touching a shoulder or an arm, sometimes simply burying a face into the crook of another’s neck. While it was partially true that they were all incredibly close, soldiers in arms for centuries, they most likely did it for the simple fact of keeping out the cold.Did Sylvanas miss it- that tactile closeness? Did she share that need for social and physical comfort amongst her rangers or did she deny herself that simple pleasure as she did everything else. Somehow Jaina suspected it was the latter."Summary: Set with a task of overseeing the building of permanent garrisons along the frigid borders of Dun Morogh Jaina ponders the tactile nature of elves and wonders if Sylvanas misses it.





	A Lighthouse in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I just have a lot of feelings. I don't even go here.

As far as leaders went, Jaina wasn’t one to shy away from getting her hands dirty. She could have retreated to the command tent, far larger and more decadent than the hastily erected dwellings the soldiers were forced to deal with but she opted to stay outside with her troop, at least until she was certain everyone had the correct rations and sleeping space they required. Most however, weren’t in their tents but chosing to huddle around campfires, blowing on cups of heated gruel, eager to fill their stomachs with some semblance of warmth and caring little for the bland taste. Jaina could have easily been sat at her desk, pleasantly snug in enchanted blankets and working on upgrading wards and mapping the layout of the new garrison they’d soon be proceeding to build within the next few weeks- but no, it didn’t feel right to be living in such comfort when her soldiers were suffering.

Perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea to agree to Vereesa’s insistence of having her rangers of the Silver Covenant guard the perimeter. The elves were clearly struggling with the cold. With long ears, a fast metabolism and a generally slender physique they were creatures of warmth and sunlight- definitely not suited to the near blizzard that whipped relentlessly at the canvas of the tents. Jaina made her way over to the fire, grabbing the pot of hot water and pouring it into her now empty bowl, swirling it around to clean it before dumping the contents out onto the snow. She looked up and had to smile a little at the miserable troop of rangers all huddled around the main fire pit, poking despondently at coals as they pressed close to one another.

“_Belore _how can you be wearing so little? I can’t feel anything beyond my elbows and knees!” A trembling voice questioned behind her and Jaina smiled warmly as she turned around to greet her Ranger General and best friend.

“Are you really asking me that question Vereesa? Frost mage, remember?” Jaina wiggled her fingers for emphasis, sparking a few enchanted flakes that drifted from her palm.

The elf scowled, “I’m well aware, please don’t feel the need to make any more of this accused stuff just to prove a point.”

Jaina laughed and set aside her bowl, clapping Vereesa on the shoulder in a friendly manner and smirking at the way the elf chased after the contact.

“Right, time to check on these wards, want to come with?”

Red-tipped ears pinned back as Vereesa shook her head fiercely. “And head out into that infernal snowstorm, no thanks.”

The mage shrugged, “Suit yourself, would do you good to keep moving.”

“Or I could just sit by my rangers next to this Light-blessed fire and share body warmth- to me that seems a far more effective tactic than an impromptu hike out into the howling abyss.” Jaina laughed openly at that, tightening the straps of her cloak and shaking the snow from her hood before pulling it over her head, shrouding her face in further darkness.

“My brave Ranger General, always so willing to escort me for my protection.”

Vereesa stuck her tongue out, maneuvering herself between two of her soldiers who didn’t break their gaze from the fire as they moved to make room, snuggling up closer once their general had had situated herself. Ridiculous, the lot of them.

“Like you need protecting, besides I know where you’re really headed anyway- we both know you asking me was only a formality.”

Jaina paused before smiling nervously, “Vereesa I…”

The youngest Windrunner rolled her eyes and smirked, “Jaina I’m not mad, just _go. _Snuggle with my infernal older sister, Light knows she’s been a monumental ass lately, she could do with the affection.”

Jaina barked out an amused laugh. “Sylvanas doesn’t _snuggle.” _

Vereesa frowned and raised an eyebrow, “Hmm, she sure used to…” she trailed off, looking almost wistful before shrugging, “I suppose in undeath she’s not exactly an elf anymore- at least not in the physical sense.”

Jaina tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Tides, Jaina- look at us!” Vereesa gestured to the miserable huddle of elves around her, “One sharp breeze and we practically keel over, we simply don’t do cold- why do you think we are so tactile as a race, we need this to survive.”

Well. That explained a lot actually. The way Vereesa and her rangers always bunked together, how they constantly were touching a shoulder or an arm, sometimes simply burying a face into the crook of another’s neck. While it was partially true that they were all incredibly close, soldiers in arms for centuries, they most likely did it for the simple fact of keeping out the chill. 

Did Sylvanas miss it- that tactile closeness? Did she share the need for social and physical comfort amongst her rangers or did she deny herself that simple pleasure as she did everything else. Somehow Jaina suspected it was the latter.

“You’re thinking too hard again” Vereesa snapped her out of her thoughts, “Go on, say hello to her from me, not that she will appreciate it.”

Jaina waved her goodbye, leaving the elves to worshipping their new god: The Fire. She was still deep in thought, even as she hurriedly worked through the wards at the perimeter and she trudged through the snow, making her way slowly toward the co-ordinates of the Forsaken encampment Sylvanas had given her earlier. Maybe tonight she would attempt something a little more intense than their usual rushed dalliance in bed. Their entire relationship was founded on the two of them satisfying a mutual need- hushed moans behind closed doors, hands deftly slipping into breeches when nobody was around or looking, always rushed, always with a time limit, a frantic race to satisfy one another before their ever present responsibilities caught up. Jaina realized that she’d never even stayed the night, always one of them was slipping from the covers before the other had even caught their breath- the outside world ever demanding their attentions.

Did Sylvanas ever wish she’d stayed, ever craved for the simplicity of being held even just for the briefest of moments? Jaina trudged through the snow faster, she supposed there was no time like the present to find out.

Once again the Forsaken encampment surprised her. She’d expected it to be dark, half expected the shambling corpses to be standing around, still and empty- like machines without a purpose. Even now memories of the scourge plagued her mind, poisoned her view of who the Forsaken were truly as a people. It was nice to be proven wrong, nice to see that tents were set up, fires burning bright with groups of undead standing around them, chatting amongst themselves. While they might not suffer from the chill, Jaina was heartened to see that they still found comfort in the warmth.

She passed under the purple banners, trying hard not to flinch as an abomination grunted out a semblance of a greeting in gutterspeak. A few yellow eyes stared at her warily, but Jaina no longer felt the need to take it personally, it was just how they regarded the living- with distrust. And she couldn’t really blame them. Most barely looked up, including Sylvanas’s own elite rangers, they had come to expect the frost mage now- she brought comfort to the Dark Lady so to them she would be always welcome… at least until ordered otherwise. Sylvanas wasn’t by the fire, but Jaina could sense she was here- could feel the dark presence of necrotic energy that scared away the wildlife and Alliance soldiers alike but brought overwhelming comfort to the undead residents. She was their beacon, stoic and strong- a steady lighthouse amongst the maelstrom. Though said lighthouse was currently hidden behind the flaps of the command tent, tucked away from the rest of the encampment. Jaina forced back an indulgent smile, Sylvanas was, at times, even more of a workaholic than she was.

Jaina frowned as she ducked through the entrance, wincing as a sprinkling of disturbed snow fell on the back of her neck. The command tent was completely dark, save for the dim glow of a candle and the outline of a hunched figure over a desk.

“Tides it’s freezing in here Sylvanas!” Jaina exclaimed and the hunched figure flinched at her voice, as though surprised that Jaina was there, but the mage knew Sylvanas must have sensed her as soon as she'd entered the perimeter. 

“Jaina,” her voice sounded strained as an arm moved to smooth out some parchment before she continued to write.

The mage frowned and stepped closer, “Why are you not by the fire? And you’re still in your armor! Are you alright?” Jaina went to put a hand on a pauldron before her fingers snatched back, hissing at the frigid temperature of the metal. She narrowed her eyes before gasping as more of the Warchief’s features became clear in the dim light. “Sylvanas, by the Tidemother, you are frozen!” Jaina looked concerned when she realized that a sheen of ice covered the Forsaken elf’s skin, icicles hung off the each spike and ornament that decorated the heavy plates of armor. Her brittle hair and long pale eyebrows were tinged with a dusting of frost, which Jaina quickly took great care in brushing off.

“Yes, unfortunately I have no body heat to prevent the ice from forming on my skin” Sylvanas laughed dryly and set her pen aside, if only momentarily, to let Jaina fuss over her in brushing the snow and ice away.

“Gods Sylvanas why do you do these things to yourself, go stand by a fire!” Jaina scraped away at the frozen chest plate, uncovering the stiff leather of a buckle and working to undo it with trembling gloved fingers. “At least get this armour off you before you completely freeze inside it.”

“Can’t have a fire _inside _the tent and my desk and parchment are here, no use in getting it damp under the falling snow.”

Jaina sighed heavily and folded her arms.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes, “Let me finish this correspondence and then I will join my troops outside by the fire.”

It was a lie and they both knew it. Jaina grumbled, ignoring the Warchief’s noises of protest as she continued to work at the straps, lifting away her pauldrons and kneeling down to unbuckle her cuirasses. She paused, gauging the elf's reaction before carefully tugging off gloves and gauntlets with a gentle and practiced care that made Sylvanas stare at her curiously, like she was wary of being treated with any form of tenderness.

“I fail to see how removing my armour and clothing is going to make me any warmer Proudmoore” Sylvanas remarked dryly and Jaina huffed in response.

“Removing damp clothing from the body is the quickest way to warm it up, all Kul Tirans know this when pulling aboard a man from the sea in winter- its hypothermia 101.”

“I’m _dead_ Jaina, hypothermia isn’t exactly something you need to watch out for,” Sylvanas leant back on her chair, tilting her head back so that it rested against Jaina’s thigh not much unlike a cat, rubbing against its owner’s legs. “If you want to get me naked Jaina, you need only ask” she purred, flashing her fangs in a smug grin.

Jaina flushed, thankful for the chill in the air already ruddying her cheeks. “I’m not here for that Sylvanas” she responded quietly and the Warchief frowned.

“Then why _are _you here?”

It was Jaina’s turn to furrow her brow. Tides had it always been like this, did Sylvanas expect she only came here for… that.

Jaina sighed, guilt blooming in her chest. It wasn’t like she’d exactly given the elf any reason to believe otherwise. She swallowed heavily.

“No I…I came here just to chat, see how you were really.” Jaina slowly pulled back the Warchief’s hood, waiting to see if Sylvanas would protest. Receiving no complaints, she carefully ran fingers through pale strands of hair, shaking out the snow. Sylvanas let out a contented sigh and Jaina felt her heart clench.

“I’m… fine?” Sylvanas seemed to say the words slowly, as if wary of the question.

Jaina shut her eyes. Had she been so self absorbed in her own selfish need that she’d failed to even ask the Warchief something as simple as how she fared? It was time she fixed this.

“Fire magic isn’t my strong point, so keep an eye out and let me know if I accidentally set anything alight,” Jaina warned and Sylvanas looked alarmed, long ears shooting up in surprise.

The warning was unnecessary- while Jaina’s affinity may have been ice, she wasn’t named an Archmage for nothing. Soon a magical fire was burning in the middle of the floor, requiring no fuel and producing no smoke though no less warm or comforting as it lit up the space, flickering across the dark canvas of the large tent.

“There” Jaina said, trying and failing to hide the smugness from her voice. “Now that should warm you up a little.”

“I never felt cold to begin with,” Sylvanas laughed, though she couldn’t help but feel somewhat touched by the gesture- even if it served no functional purpose other than to allow the human to showboat a little. Correspondence forgotten, she swivelled around on her chair and regarded Jaina with a curious gaze as the mage busied herself with walking over to the bed and pulling back the sheets.

“Either way, you were an elf-cicle when I walked in, that can’t have felt good.”

“No,” Sylvanas allowed, “It wasn’t pleasant.”

“Well then, I’m of use after all.” The mage flopped back on the bed, removing her cloak, protective skirts and corset until she was clad only in an undershirt and leggings. Kicking off her heavy snow boots, she leant back on the pillows, arms behind her head, as casually as someone who believed they belonged there. Sylvanas supposed she should be upset but the human just looked so comfortable, her smile and gentle ease infectious. The elf tilted her head and placed on hand on her hip in mock exasperation.

“What are you doing?”

Jaina raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “Getting comfortable?”

Red eyes narrowed, “It would appear so. You do look rather… relaxed.”

“So join me.”

Sylvanas sighed, “I thought you weren’t here because of that.”

“I’m not, you can lie next to someone in bed without having to fuck them Sylvanas.”

An ear flicked in confusion. “I know that but…”

“Oh for Lights-sake Sylvanas just lay on the bed with me!”

Anyone else and that bossy tone would have earned them a dagger between the eyes but with Jaina it invoked a slight shiver down her spine. The Warchief straightened, eyes never leaving Jaina’s as she slowly stood, boots thumping against the temporary wooden decking as she approached the mage with all the caution of a hunter stalking dangerous prey.

“I don’t bite.” Jaina teased further stretching out, willing her body heat to banish the remaining chill from the sheets.

“Well that’s a lie” Sylvanas drawled, relaxing slightly as the mage simply grinned in response. Jaina was right though, she was safe here, safe to shrug off the last of her protective leathers, safe to lower her body down next to her unlikely lover and just… be.

Sylvanas allowed herself to take a deep breath and sink into the mattress, turning slightly so she was facing the human, a guarded, yet inquisitive expression on her face.

“Was that so hard?” Jaina questioned, her voice soft rather than teasing. Sylvanas swallowed and shook her head. “Why you never allow yourself to indulge in any form of comfort is beyond me” Jaina sighed, slowly closing the space between them until Sylvanas could practically feel the body heat radiating off her, and hear the steady thump of a heartbeat. “Can I put my arms around you?”

Sylvanas paused, eyes like embers scanning the human’s face as if trying to figure out her intentions before shuffling closer and-

_Oh- _

This felt nice, really nice. Jaina was warm, her skin flushed from the hike in the cold but already responding to the heat from the conjured fire. Sylvanas suddenly couldn’t get enough of it, kicking her legs free of the covers and pushing them up against Jaina’s. The human stiffened at the sudden chill of frozen skin pressed next to hers but allowed her body to relax as she slowly eased into the sensation. With a mix of her own warmth and the fire, it wouldn’t be long before Sylvanas’s own skin temperature would be pleasant to the touch. Jaina tightened her hold, slowly running a hand down the length of the elf’s spine. Sylvanas openly shuddered against her and Jaina guided her head so that it lay against the bare skin of her chest before moving her hand up to gently scratch against her scalp.

“I just want to say I’m sorry,” Jaina whispered, not daring to raise her voice in fear of breaking up the surprisingly tender moment.

“Why are you sorry?” Sylvanas winced at how rough her voice sounded, even with the banshee’s echo behind it. Her eyes nearly rolled back in bliss as Jaina carded fingers through her hair in a gentle, repeating motion before gently trailing them along the back of a knife-like ear, the human marveling at how she could see delicate veins through the skin that was backlit by the fire.

“I’ve always asked so much of you, relied on you to satisfy me when nothing else could.” The human winced, “I feel like I used you without ever checking on how that made you feel.”

Sylvanas chuckled, even as her still heart clenched. “I would never have let you do it if I did not want it myself.”

“I know…it’s just,” Jaina paused and twisted her spare hand in the sheets. “I wish I’d spent that time we had together actually getting to know you, the real you I mean. I want to actually talk, to spend time with you- be your friend even, if you’ll allow me.”

“So no more sex?” Sylvanas questioned bluntly, tilting her head to the side with a serious expression on her face.

“No!” Jaina blurted, before collecting herself and laughing self-consciously at the sudden smirk on the Warchief’s lips. “I…” she laid back so she was facing the ceiling and threw an arm across her face, “Oh you’re just teasing me aren’t you… you know what I mean. The sex is good, great even… the best I’ve…you know what, I’m going to shut up.”

“No please, do carry on,” Sylvanas’s smirk widened into a grin as Jaina gently kicked at a shin from under the covers. The human’s own smile faded as she turned back toward Sylvanas and lifted trembling fingers to trail down the side of her lover’s face.

“You’re so beautiful you know that?”

“I used to be more beautiful,” Sylvanas nuzzled into her palm, surprised at how natural it felt to respond to such physical affection, how easily her dead body seemed to remember it.

“Maybe _too_ beautiful” Jaina countered, “To the point it becomes bland… like Kael’Thas.”

Sylvanas snorted at the unexpected response before glaring in mock outrage. “Did you just compare me to _Kael’Thas?” _

“Perhaps that was a touch harsh.”

“Harsh? People have died from lesser insults Lady Proudmoore,” Sylvanas rolled closer, cool fingers dancing over the soft skin of Jaina’s stomach as she yelped and pulled away. “I was never as beautiful as Kael’Thas” Sylvanas stated decisively, her grave expression looking almost ethereal in the flickering firelight. “And for that I’m thankful, if it means I’m gifted with your admiration.” Sylvanas allowed a truly stunning smile, flashing sharp, white teeth before she lifted her hand so it rested against the backs of Jaina’s. “But yes, in response to your earlier question- I’d like that, to get to know each other more, I’d like that very much.”

“That makes me so happy to hear that.” Jaina whispered, arms tightening around Sylvanas as she pulled her impossibly closer, pressing a soft kiss to a forehead. The elf stiffened, body going still as everything seemed to hit her at once. Jaina’s desire to get to know her, the gentle way in which she was being caressed and handled, the softness of the sheets, the warmth of the fire and the body heat of her lover seeping into her frozen soul. She fought back a sob and buried her face into the crook of the human mage’s neck, breathing in the subtle scent of floral perfume, arcane and wood smoke. “Sylvanas?” Jaina questioned before pressing another kiss to the crown of her head when she got no response. “Do you need a moment?”

A miniscule nod against her chest. Jaina closed her eyes, fighting back tears as she soothingly rubbed a hand over a trembling shoulder. “Me too, Sylvanas, me too.”

Neither one had realized just how badly they had needed this until now. The blizzard continued to scream outside, it would cause a huge hindrance in the morning when they attempted to dig their way out and Vereesa would probably feed her to the gryphons for not returning when she was supposed to, but Jaina couldn’t find it within herself to care and Sylvanas wouldn’t dare question it otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to imagine the blizzard screaming outside is actual Blizzard screaming at me for making Sylvanas happy.


End file.
